


Warmed Up

by gothboobs



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothboobs/pseuds/gothboobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty finally asks for a spanking...but gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmed Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eastcoastlighthouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastcoastlighthouse/gifts).



“Up an at ‘em Mor-euugh-ty!”

Squinting at the ceiling, Morty turned his head to stare at Rick towering above him. “Whu time izzit?”

“It’s time to go Morty, c’mon.” Rick reached forward and shook Morty’s shoulder, “Up! C-c’mon Morty—”

Morty slowly sat up. It felt like his head and chest weighed a hundred pounds each. His bedroom was still dark, and through the blinds he could see moonlight shining against the snow.

“Jeez Rick…c-can’t I sleep in longer? It’s Saturday!”

“Y-y-you think I care what day of the week it is Morty?” Rick tossed Morty’s winter jacket at him and turned on his heel, “Get -eruup- dressed and come downstairs. Bundle up too, because this is gonna be a  _cool_  adventure, dawg, if-if y-you-eruuuppp-if you catch my drift.”

Morty was still blinking dumbly at his bedroom door long after Rick had left before he finally crawled out of bed and began pulling clothes on. As he reached for his socks, he caught sight of the palm of his hand. Written in smudged ink was his sloppy handwriting:  _ask today_.

After weeks of working up the courage (and swallowing down the shame), yesterday Morty had promised himself after a less-than-great solo romp that he would request a “session” with Rick. Yes, “session.” The other ‘s’ word was too hard for Morty to use when he tried to pump himself up in the bathroom mirror post-shower. Scrubbing his palm against his jeans to get the ink off, the teenager sighed as he pulled on a thick dark purple sweater over his t-shirt and poked around in his closet until he found his timberland boots. He was mildly annoyed that today’s adventure would be at a cold place, since it was already ball-bustingly cold at home.

Finally bundled up with a jacket and scarf, Morty trudged downstairs and headed toward the garage, grabbing his earmuffs and gloves out of the hallway closet on his way. Rick was tinkering beneath the hood of the spaceship when he arrived, and without looking up, Rick simply sharply reprimanded as he heard Morty enter: “Jesus, Morty why’d it take you so long, w-were you getting pretty for me?”

“No!” Morty walked further into the garage, standing beside Rick, feeling his nerves tingle being close to his grandfather.

“Here, finish screwing this on,” Rick handed Morty the cap to a canister inside the engine, before backing up and heading to the workbench.

Morty finished inside the engine and closed the hood, glancing over at Rick who was seated with his back turned, calibrating his portal gun. Sucking in a deep breath, Morty squeezed his fists until his nails dug into his palm. If he didn’t ask now, he’d procrastinate all day and not ask at all.

“Rick,”

“Mmm.”

Morty felt his mouth dry up and awkwardly worked his jaw, why was he so nervous? This was  _Rick_ , and besides, it’s not as if spanking wasn’t already something that happened. Plus, didn’t Rick say he didn’t care? That he even…liked it too?

“Yes, Morty?”

Realizing he had been silent for a long few seconds, Morty jolted back to reality. Rick swung around in his chair, putting his portal gun in his lap and staring at Morty, giving him his attention. Shit. Morty was hoping he’d stay turned around for the conversation.

“I uh…w-wanted to ask something.”

Rick raised his eyebrow and with his hand waved his fingers in the universal “get on with it” gesticulation.

“Okay, um.” Morty shifted back and forth on his feet, “Okay. I—o-okay.”

It took Rick about one second to figure out what Morty was trying to ask for and it was only with tremendous self-discipline that he didn’t smirk. “C’mon Morty.”

“S-sorry, Rick, I’m trying—okay, b-before I ask…I don’t want too much—”

“I’m g-g-gonna-euurrph- I’m gonna stop you right there,  _Morty_.” Rick crossed his arms over his chest, “If you’re about to try and give me restrictions, you should know better; I do what I want, when I want, and that includes spanking.”

The magic word turned Morty’s face from pale to pink like a lightswitch. “I-I-I-I—”

“W-whether it is a punishment, a request, or a reward—”

Morty sputtered in astonishment, "Re-re- _reward_!?"

"—I am in charge. You don't get to decide how hard, how long, when—eruup— where, nothing. In fact," Rick stood and opened a closet against the side of the garage wall as he continued to scold, "I could even decide to give you a requested spanking immediately after a punishment.”

Morty’s mouth dropped open at the thought. He would probably never ever sit again if that happened. He was frustrated Rick wasn't making it easier for him, but reminding himself he practiced this request about a thousand times in the bathroom mirror, he knew he couldn’t waffle out now. Morty sighed and looked at his feet. It was so hard to look at Rick for these conversations, "Fine…okay Rick, jeez...I w-want—"

"You better ask nicely, m-motherfucker."

Morty swallowed his pride down at meekly began again, "Rick, can you p-please—" Morty could hear his own voice get smaller and quieter with each syllable he spoke, “Caaan you please uh...g-give me a spanking?”

“Yep!” Rick promptly turned and dug into the closet, emerging with a fluffy, glossy, black fur coat that he pushed his arms through and shrugged into his shoulders.

“Uh…” Morty's brain struggled to process a question he didn't know how to ask, “Uh--so...w-when?”

“What, do you have to check y-your itinerary Morty?” Rick snorted and crossing to the spaceship he opened the door and began to climb inside, “N-need to fuckin’ pencil me in? Fuck you, Morty, it's my decision. When I say you're getting a spanking, you're getting a spanking.”

He had on  _that_  voice, so Morty shut his mouth and stood awkwardly in the garage behind him. Was he bothering Rick? Worried that he was being irritating Morty sadly stared at the floor, suddenly unsure of himself, until Rick’s voice stirred him from his brooding.

“Let’s go, Morty!”

As he climbed into the passenger seat of the spaceship, Rick handed him a worn-looking CD. Smirking at his younger companion, Rick fired up the ship, “Pop that bad boy in Morty! I f-euughh-found the EP of  _The Flesh Curtains_  third album.”

“Aw, cool!” Morty stuck the disc into the ship’s player, grateful that Rick was changing the subject, although, the mysterious timing of a future trip over his grandfather’s knee was already eating away at him.

 

* * *

 

 

Rick flew them to a distant planet that even from far away Morty could tell was covered in ice and snow. As they landed beside a snowdrift, Morty pulled his gloves on and rearranged his scarf to protect more of his face and neck. Climbing out of the ship, Morty was awed by how much snow there was. Besides the streets, pathways, and houses carved out, everything else was blanketed in dozens of feet of fluffy white snow, and it was snowing now.

“We-euurg-lcome to the snow planet Kühl, Morty. This biosphere never reaches above twenty degrees.”

“Y-y-yeahh—” Morty shivered, “w-w-what visions  _Hoth_  I see, am-am I right, Rick…?”

Glancing sideways at his grandfather, Morty expected to be met with derision or sarcasm so he was pleasantly surprised to see Rick chuckle as he took out his flask and sipped.

“Star Wars pun in a Shakespeare quote. G-gotta hand it to ya Morty, that was pretty good.” Spotting the goofy grin that spread itself across Morty’s face, Rick shoved his shoulder, “Follow me, I don’t wanna stay here longer than I have to.”

Dutifully hurrying after Rick as he briskly walked down the snowy path, Morty huffed and puffed clouds of breath into the air. Rick’s lead them to a small house not far from where they parked the ship, and stepping inside, Rick was warmly greeted by an alien that Morty instantly decided looked like a Yeti wearing a orange polo shirt.

“Hey hey, Sanchez!”

“Yo, what’s up, Tox,” Rick took Morty by the shoulder and pushed him forward, “This is my grandson Morty.”

Morty stuck his hand out for a handshake and had to smile as Tox’s mammoth hand closed around not just his palm, but his entire forearm.

“Hey Morty, I’m a buddy of your granddad’s.” Releasing Morty’s arm, Tox gestured toward the back, “Rick, you and I can go out back. I’ll have Tiberius keep Morty company.”

Calling his son in a strange alien language, a second, shorter yeti, this one wearing a black t-shirt with a yeti superhero of some sort emblazoned across it descended the stairs and grinned at Morty, “Sup?”

“Oh, uhh hi!”

Rick rolled his eyes at Morty’s clear discomfort and followed Tox into the back, “I’ll be back in a bit Morty.”

Staring up at his temporary companion Morty stammered, “Uhh—s-sorry you gotta um…watch me or whatever—”

“Huh? Dude, I’m not your babysitter, my dad just doesn’t want you to be bored.” Tiberus spoke with the easy fluctuating syntax of a surfer, and his chill attitude was contagious. Smiling at Morty, he pointed back up the stairs, “Wanna play video games?”

“Yeah!”

As they headed upstairs, in the back room, Rick and Tox bartered back and forth on the price of some very rare freeze-crystal technology.

 

A thunderous clap of noise from outside shook the house suddenly and Morty toppled to the ground from his perch on the edge of Tiberius’ bed.

“What was  _that_!?”

“Ice storm.” Tiberius shut the shades of his window, which only now Morty realized were reinforced steel. “Don’t worry dude, the house is gonna shake a little bit but we’ll be safe.”

“Oh, o-okay!”

But downstairs, Rick was not taking the news nearly as well.

“Shit. This means we’re grounded for the night, right?”

“’Fraid so,” Tox handed over the last of the materials to Rick and passed a hand through the long white fur on his face, “But y’know, you’re in luck. I’m house sitting for my brother while he’s away for a few days. Tiberius and I will take you and your grandson there tonight, and in the morning, you’ll be able to leave.”

“Y-your frigid fucking planet is too cold for us to stay long.”

Laughing, Tox led Rick back out into the main part of the house. “Worried about Morty? Just sleep in the same bed as him to keep warm, you’ll both be fine.”

Rick’s expression remained neutral, but the thought of sharing a bed with Morty was both appealing and distressing. He knew Morty had a crush on him and would likely jump at the chance to sleep with him, but Rick had watched Morty sleep enough times to know he was an extremely fidgety sleeper, and spending the night with a horny, wiggling teenager didn’t sound very restful.

“Tiberius?”

Both teenagers clunked downstairs at Tox’s call, and after relaying the plan to Morty, Tox and Tiberius wrapped them both in multiple, gigantic blankets from head to toe. Morty was completely confined in layers of fleece like a burrito, and was only dimly aware of being picked up. He could hear the door open, and suddenly the temperature dropped thirty degrees. Tiberius had wrapped him tightly, but Morty suddenly understood why he and Rick were under strict orders to stay indoors until the storm ended the next morning. There was no way they would survive in this climate. Although he couldn’t see anything, Morty felt himself carried a distance of maybe half a mile before being set down on his feet again. It was reasonably warmer now, although Morty was still shivering inside the blankets.

As Tiberius unwrapped the last blanket, Morty opened his eyes to see Rick standing over a roaring fire that Tox had evidently built while Morty was emerging from his fleece cocoon.

“Alright dude, it was good meeting you!” Tiberius clapped Morty on the back hard enough to make the thin teenager stumble slightly.

“Y-yeah, you too!”

“Here’s my number,” Tiberius scrawled a line of numbers on a slip of paper and handed it to Morty, “Text me sometime. Your planet has cell phones right?”

“Yeah!” Morty smiled, “We can ‘chill!’”

“Ha! That’s pretty good!”

Rick groaned, but Morty ignored him and waved at Tox and Tiberius as they headed back out into the cold, “Bye!”

The room was warm enough that Morty could finally remove his jacket, but the residual feeling of cold in his arms and legs made him shiver as he walked over to stand next to Rick.

“Had fun with y-your boyfriend Morty?”

Morty rolled his eyes, “W-whatever, Rick.” He puffed warm air into his hands and pressed his palms toward the fire, “I feel like I’m never going to be warm again. It’s really cold on this planet!”

Rick looked down at Morty, chuckled, and turning away from the fire, crossed the room to sit down on the couch.

“I know a good way to warm you up.” Rick patted his thigh and raised an eyebrow at Morty, “C’mere.”

“Ahh—” Morty suddenly felt like his legs were made of lead. “N-n-now…?”

Rick nodded and crooked his finger, but his expression was less-than-reassuring.

“I—” Morty twisted his fingers, “N-not at home?”

Rick sighed, “Morty you don’t want me to have to come get you.”

“Okay!” Morty’s legs were working again, and he dashed over to where Rick was seated.

As Rick’s hands reached for his jeans, Morty whined, “Awwww…y-you can’t—”

“Morty, you’re complaining an-an awful lot for having asked for this.” Rick sharply retorted as he undid Morty’s fly and yanked his jeans down to his knees, “Probably not a good idea to annoy me moments before y-you’re over my knee.”

With his firm hand against his back, Morty allowed Rick to push him over his lap, and settle his upper body on the couch. “I’m just nervous!”

Rick scoffed, “What are you nervous about? You get spanked at least a couple times a month!”

Morty didn’t have a good response so he stayed quiet, goosebumps rising on his legs where they were exposed to the cool air in the room. He could feel Rick’s hand rest gently on his upturned butt and rub slowly.

“Ready Morty?”

Morty’s nerves were bad. He reached around and curled the arm closest to Rick around Rick’s back. The hand on his ass stilled.

“Morty?”

“S-sorry, yeah, I’m ready Rick.”

Rick reached over and tussled Morty’s hair, “Don’t worry Morty, okay?”

The first swat slammed into him and Morty’s eyes popped open, how in the world was Rick’s hand that hard!? Despite the first swat being a ringer, as Rick continued, the smacks were firm but not as hard as Rick usually spanked him. Through Morty’s boxers, the spanks stung and tingled, the warmth spreading from his butt to his balls, his length rapidly hardening against Rick's thigh. Morty took his spanking in relative silence, grunting only twice on hard swats.

When Rick paused to rub, Morty exhaled deeply, sucking breath back and forth, squirming over Rick's knee as his huge palm rubbed the sting in.

"A-are you going to sleep Morty?" Rick's voice above him sounded slightly amused, "Y-you're quiet, do I need to spank you harder to get a reaction?"

"N-no!" Morty turned his head back, panicked at the idea of Rick going harder "It's uh—it's good! y-you are uh—doing great?"

Rick snorted and tugged Morty's boxers down as the teen groaned in protest, "tell me something I don't know, Morty."

Morty tensed, expecting another swat, but instead, Rick’s hand rested against his bare skin and squeezed firmly, first one cheek, and then the other, as Morty pushed his face against the couch cushion and tried not to groan at the sensation. Rick’s hand rubbed down the backs of Morty’s thighs, and then with his fingertips, he trailed his nails lightly back up, sending tingling chills across Morty’s skin. This time, Morty couldn’t help himself and a breathy moan dribbled out of his mouth as he shuddered over Rick’s lap.

“Enjoying yourself, Morty?”

“I—”

“And-and you better not lie to me…”

Rick was so unfair. Morty hunched his shoulders up to his ears in embarrassment as he replied, “I-I’m—y-yes, I-I, um, I’m…yes.”

“How eloquent.” Rick shifted slightly, and adjusted Morty over his lap, catching sight of his blushed face turned to the side. Good, red on both sets of cheeks. He patted the jiggly bottom in his lap and grinned to himself, Morty was dangerously cute. The kind of cute he wanted to sink his teeth into.

When Rick’s hand lifted again, Morty braced for impact, but the swat was relatively gentle. Rick started slow and soft, his hand barely patting Morty’s ass, to firm taps, building up to harder smacks until Morty was gasping and grabbing at the cushions with each mighty swat. Rick stopped and rubbed again, as Morty panted and writhed in both pain and pleasure as Rick’s fingers dipped ever so slightly into Morty’s crack as his palm rubbed over the hot flesh.

“Mmmmm…” It was becoming harder and harder not to rut against Rick’s thigh. The spanking was unlike any that Morty had previously received from Rick. It hurt sure, but having the sting rubbed in after every two dozen or so swats made him feel warm and tingly everywhere. Somehow, the gentle rubbing made him more sensitive so when the spanking began again it hurt more, but also hurt… _better_?

Suddenly Rick’s hand dove between Morty’s thighs and wrapped itself around his partially-squished boner.

“AH!”

“Wh-what-eruurph-what’s this, Morty, huh?”

Morty could only manage a throaty groan as Rick’s long fingers squeezed firmly, his hand hot from spanking and rough from callouses.

“”Y-you really are enjoying yourself, huh, you filthy little rascal.” Rick jacked him off as his other hand squeezed Morty’s ass appreciatively, “I suppose I should start your spanking now.”

Morty almost lifted bodily off the couch, “WHAT!?”

A sharp elbow dug between his shoulder blades and forced him hard back down onto the couch. Rick’s pleasant, teasing tone was gone, and he sternly ‘hmph’ed at his grandson, “Get back down there, brat.”

“Rick, you’ve—” Morty fidgeted across Rick’s lap, had he known the movement made his bottom jiggle so deliciously he might not be so keen to do it, but Rick was certainly not about to volunteer that information. “Rick, if-if you’re not spanking me now, w-what’s this!?”

“This is me having fun.” Rick released Morty’s cock and both hands squeezed his cheeks hard, making him yelp, “but I think y-you’re having a little too much fun. After all, you asked me for a spanking—”

“But-but—”

“So I intend to spank you.”

“But Rick! Rick—wait, wait—”

Ignoring his grandson’s protests, Rick wrapped his free arm around Morty and held him down firmly. He patted the wiggling little butt firmly, “In fact, s-since you still seem to be so anxious about -eruuurp- making requests, why don’t we practice again now. Ask me for a good, hard spanking, Morty.”

“Riiiick, pleeeeease—”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Rick rewarded Morty’s hesitation with a hard pinch, “Come on Morty, ask nicely for a spanking, or I’ll h-have to teach you a little lesson about cooperating when y-you’re over my knee, and we can save your request for when—”

“ _Okay!”_ Morty pressed his hands against his cheeks, why did he do this to himself!? “Please Rick, p-please give me,” Morty sniffled pathetically, “Please give me a good, h-hard spanking, Rick, please…”

“Of course, baby,” Rick tapped his bottom preemptively to aim his swat, “Hold on, Morty.”

The first swat drove a shocked gasp from his lungs and Morty oddly found the sensation strangely familiar. Ahhh, yes...  _This_  is what an actual Rick Sanchez spanking felt like. Rick really was just having fun before.

The second swat drove any other rational thought from Morty’s mind.

“OWWWW RICK!”

“Mmhm.”

Where previously, firm, tingly swats had been interrupted by sweet interludes of smooth, soothing massage, Rick now swatted away at his usual breakneck speed, barely giving Morty a chance to draw breath as he set the teen’s ass ablaze with nothing but his hard hand.

Morty tried in vain to not cry. He chewed on his lip until he tasted blood, but Rick was relentless, tireless, and Morty, who’s composure had been hanging by a thread already, was sniffling and whimpering with each powerful smack, and soon enough, earnestly sobbing into the couch.

“Riii-hic-hiiiiiic—”

“Ohhhh, there he is—” Rick paused, and rubbed briefly, “There’s my wussy little crybaby. Y-you lasted so long today…”

Morty could hear the smile in his voice, but he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to get mad, "I -sniff- I din't—I didn't know y-y-you'd try’da make me cryyy!"

"Morty listen carefully: any time you find yourself bent over my knee you will be crying before I am done with you."

"Whuh-huh-whut!?" Morty kicked his legs, no point in saving face now, "Rick! Why!? I-I-I asked n-nicelyyy, I thought—I thought—"

"Settle. Down." Two blisteringly hard swats eliminated any further talking from Morty as he bent his head back down and bawled. Rick simply continued, his hard hand smacking down onto Morty as the teenager kicked and cried over his knee.

He finally paused, rubbing slow, comforting circles as Morty caught his breath. 

Turning his head to glance over his shoulder at Rick, Morty sniffed pathetically, "f-fiiine, I-I won't ask againnnn-"

"Oh stop, You know you want this—need this probably. Right Morty?” Rick’s free arm released its hold around Morty, and he smoothed his hand up beneath Morty’s shirt, rubbing his back soothingly, “When you’re over grandpa’s knee you don’t have to worry about anything. You can just relax and let out all that pent-up anxiety and angst you like to torture yourself with, while Grandpa Rick takes care of this bad little bottom.”

“I don’t—mm!” Morty scrubbed at his face, “I don’t-don’t-I don’t  _torture_  myself, Rick!”

Rick snorted and rested his hand, letting Morty sniff and snivel over his lap as he caught his breath, “Yes you do, dipshit. Y-you’re always worried about everything, always over thinking and second-guessing yourself, and self-loathing…but  _here_ ,” Rick moved his arm back to wrap around Morty and hold him still, “here, over my knee, you can just relax and be yourself: my bratty boy who needs an ass whuppin’ with increasing regularity.”

Rick’s words stirred in him, and as his grandfather started walloping away again, Morty burst into tears once more, but it was almost as if Rick had given him permission just now to really let loose. So he did. Morty didn’t bother attempting to take his spanking well, and instead kicked, and squirmed and cried loudly and wriggled until he was completely out of energy and simply lay across Rick’s knee, and it was in this moment of complete surrender that Morty finally relaxed.

Rick felt it immediately. Morty’s muscles loosened, the weight over his lap increased slightly as his grandson went completely limp. Slowing down, he gave Morty a few more good smacks for good measure before stopping and softly rubbing the bright red and undoubtedly sore bottom in his lap. Glancing down at him, he half smiled at the sight: Morty’s cheeks were bright pink, his eyes were puffy with tears and he lay calmly against the couch, his mouth in a permanent pout as a few final tears rolled across the bridge of his nose toward the couch cushion.

“Hey Morty.”

Morty looked up out of the corner of his eye at Rick and attempted a rather feeble smile, “H-hiii –sniff- Riiiick…”

“Y-you’re doing so well, Morty…” Rick meant it. For all of his crying and carrying on not once did he attempt to reach back with his hands or climb off of Rick’s lap, “Have you had enough?”

Morty sniffled and stammered, “I-I-it’s not…not up to me, y-you decide, Rick…” 

Rick grinned broadly at the sweet submission, “You’re absolutely right.” He gave Morty a final hard smack, prompting a surprised “oooh!” from his grandson, before helping him up off his lap. Morty wobbled on his feet, but Rick stood and swooped him into his arms, carrying him into the bedroom two rooms away, and gently setting him face down on the bed.

Still warm, fuzzy and drowsy from the post-spanking haze, Morty only slightly registered the sensation of Rick taking off his shoes, and pulling his boxers and jeans the rest of the way off so he was laying naked from the waist down. The bed dipped beside him, and Rick’s hands abruptly smoothed up beneath Morty’s t-shirt and began deftly massaging Morty’s back and shoulders.

“Ohhhh—” Morty closed his eyes in ecstasy. Somehow his skin seemed to be hypersensitive. Everything felt good, the scratchy cotton blanket beneath him, the hot burn in his ass, the hard, nimble fingertips rubbing knots out of his muscles.

When Rick finished, he flopped onto his back on the bed beside Morty and opened up his arms. There was no need for a spoken invitation, Morty happily half-crawled, half dragged himself to lay on top of Rick. He felt his grandfather’s hands slip down to gentle cup his sore bottom, and a thought out of the blue occurred to Morty. Lifting himself up on his elbows on Rick’s chest, he gazed down, “D-does your hand hurt, Rick?”

Rick’s eyebrow lifted in mild surprise, “Well, duh, Morty, a little bit.”

“Oh!” Morty smiled sheepishly, “I d-didn’t think about that…thank you for spanking me even though it hurts your hand.”

“Jeez Morty, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Still—thank you.” Morty continued to look down at Rick, losing himself in the bright blue eyes until his hands clasped Rick's cheeks, and leaning down before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips tenderly against Rick's mouth.

“Morty…” Rick pushed him back, pursed his lips, and…dammit, he felt his groin twitch. “No, Morty.”

“Ohhh,” Morty smiled and taking Rick’s hand that was pressed against his chest, he moved it to his mouth and kissed the red, hot palm, “Is this something I have to ask for to?” Before Rick could reply, Morty flashed a devious little smile and innocently asked, “Rick, please give me a-a good, hard fucking.”

“God _dammit,_  Morty—” But Rick already knew he was losing the battle. Morty was rubbing against him, his little hands grasping at the collar of Rick’s shirt, his face flushed pink and smiling serenely down at him.

“Awww—c-c’mon Rick, I’ve felt—you’ve gotten boners before while spanking me, I-I can feel them, you know."

Rick growled beneath his grandson and squeezed his ass hard, “I-I reeeeally don’t think you want to do this now, Morty.”

“I thought—” Morty pressed his face against Rick’s neck, rubbed his cheek against the ridges of his jugular, pressed kisses to his jumping pulse, “I thought y-you do what you want  _when_ you want, huh? Or-or do I get to pick when we fuck?”

Rick flipped them both, and pinned Morty to the bed, clenching his teeth and attempting to stay reasonably controlled, his voice low and warning, “You’re playing with fire, Morty.”

“W-well you  _said_  you’d warm me up, Rick—ooh!”

Rick collapsed against him, pressing his chest against Morty’s one hand slinking down to grasp his teenage balls and the other pulled his hair back, exposing his throat which Rick sank his teeth into.

Morty gasped and breathy exclamations of 'ahh-ahh' fluttered from his abused throat as Rick's lips moved against his neck, “Y-you’re really asking for it, you know, Morty.” He pulled back, sitting up on his knees to swiftly strip off his labcoat and sweater before falling back down on top of him, “Y-you want me to—you want me to fuck you good and hard, huh, Morty?”

“Ahhnn—yess—”

“Oh shut up, I’d break you in half if I actually fucked you hard.” Rick ground against him, smirking at how turned on Morty was, “But maybe you want that? M-maybe you want me to make you cry again, Morty? You want me to fuck that pretty little throat while you sob around my cock?”

Morty groaned at the dirty talk, humping against Rick, clawing at his pants, “Yes—yesss…”

Rick snickered and kissed his way down Morty’s blushing, squirming body, until he reached the hard, pink dick, practically trembling for attention. Rick opened his mouth and gently breathed hot air on the tip, but Morty’s hands abruptly grabbed his head and pushed him down. Ripping his mouth off, he glared up at Morty as he jacked him off, “Y-you’re gonna be in trouble for that later, Morty…”

Morty shrugged and put his hands on Rick’s head again, combing his fingers through the blue hair, “Eh...”

Rick rolled his eyes and made a mental note before going down again, wrapping his mouth around Morty’s junk pulling the longest, sweetest moan out of him as he smoothly sucked him off.

Morty’s hips wildly thrust up, even as Rick attempted to hold them down, and Morty clawed at the sheets beneath him he groaned Rick’s name. Unable to deny himself any longer Rick pulled off of Morty and flipped him over before climbing off the bed. Retrieving his labcoat, he located his lube and returned to the bed where Morty was absentmindedly rutting into the mattress.

Rick unzipped his slacks and pushed them along with his briefs down to his knees as he jacked himself off slowly, “C-come over to the edge of the bed, Morty.”

Morty crawled over, and having seen plenty of porn, swung his legs around the side so he was bent over, his bright red bottom up high in the air. Rick was enamored, though he’d never admit it.

Slicking his fingers with lube he slid them between Morty’s cheeks and softly rubbed up against his asshole.

“Mm—ss’cold—” Morty scooched back, pressing against Rick’s fingers as Rick slowly inserted the first section of his finger and wiggled it.

“S-so good for me, Morty…”

Rick slid the finger deeper, pushing in and out of Morty, slicking the entrance until he could squeeze a second finger and then a third inside. Morty squeaked with each new addition but quickly became accustomed to the stretch, arching his back and squeezing the blankets in his hands.

Pulling his hand away, Rick smoothed lube over his dick and pushed it up against Morty, “Ready, baby?”

Morty cooed and wiggled against him, “Yesss…”

“Good.” Rick pressed his tip firmly against the entrance, and in a smooth steady motion, slowly forced his entire length into Morty.

Morty hadn’t been ready for  _that_ , and made it known through a loud screech and anxious arms scrambling across the bed, “Rick! Ahh—too—too big!”

“What, not ready for a good, hard fucking?” Rick felt a pang of guilt, he’d tried to stretch Morty out a little but he also had it in mind to make Morty think twice before requesting something like this so boldly. He was still balls deep in Morty, letting him adjust to his size as he calmly intoned, “Any regrets?”

Morty whipped his head around, and Rick saw fresh tears coating his cheeks, but a silly smile was slapped across his face, “No way!”

Rick grinned and reached forward, wiping some of the tears with his fingertips and bringing his hand to his mouth to lick them off, “Crybaby.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah,” Rick pulled out and slammed back in, sighing happily as Morty shrieked, “Yeah I do.”

Morty was still crushingly tight around him, but as Rick thrust in and out he slowly loosened up until Rick was able to move with more freedom. And as he got used to Rick’s size and length, Morty started to move with Rick, pushing back against him, propping himself up on his elbows to arch his back more and huff and pant at the ceiling.

“Y-you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into Morty—” Rick reached down and sharply smacked the abused bottom he was fucking, delighting in the pained moan it drew from his grandson, “I’m a selfish, insatiable person—I’m gonna—I’m gonna make you my personal fucktoy, Morty.”

“Mmm!” Morty turned his head again to look at Rick over his shoulder, “Hahhh—promise?”

“Pervert.” Rick shoved his head down into the mattress, and bracing his feet, he picked up the rhythm, fucking Morty hard into the mattress, listening to the music of his moaned appreciation.

“Rick, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, it’s-it’s okay Morty,” Rick reached around, and slapped Morty’s hand away that had been jacking him off, and wrapped his own fist around Morty’s cock, jacking him off, “Cum for me Morty.”

With a gasp and a violent shudder, Morty fell down against the mattress as a hot burst of cum exploded into Rick’s hand.

“ _Fuck_ —” Rick wiped his hand against the bed, and then grabbed Morty’s hips in both hands, pounding into him, until he came with a low groan and collapsed on top of his grandson, still inside. Morty’s hands slid up and underneath Rick’s hands on the bed, and Rick squeezed them tightly as he caught his breath for a moment, before standing back up and pulling out.

“Y-you okay, Morty?”

“Mmhm…” Heaving himself onto the bed, Morty spread out and panted, “Y-yeah…”

Rick climbed onto the bed beside him, and pushing sticky strands of hair off his forehead, he kissed the clammy skin, “Move over a little—”

Morty scooted to give Rick more room and happily giggled as Rick wrapped his arms around him and pulled him against his chest. He’d been cold earlier, but now he felt like every nerve was burning inside his body. A wave of exhaustion washed over him as he craned his neck to look at Rick, “Thank you.”

“Mmhm.” Rick pressed his head back down to his chest, “Go to sleep, Morty.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, the bedroom is clean.” Morty gingerly walked into the living room where Rick was tidying up the fireplace. It was still early in the morning but Rick had had enough of this planet and was itching to leave.

“Good. We’re almost ready to go.” Rick stood up from the fireplace and walked over to the couch, sitting down in the middle. Raising his eyebrow up at Morty, he patted his thigh, “C’mere, Morty.”

Morty paled. His ass was still insanely painful—he hadn’t been able to sit longer than ten seconds all morning, “Rick, w-what did I do!?”

Rick narrowed his eyes, “I-I told you last night you were gonna get in trouble for trying to shove me down on your dick,  _Morty_.”

Shit. Morty backed up a step, “Rick— _please_ , I—”

“Now, Morty.”

Morty groaned and slowly walked over to Rick.


End file.
